Sibling Rivalry
by starlightpiper
Summary: Protoman's side of the story.
1. Sibling Rivalry, Chapter 1

I knew, that day, that he didn't care. I had not been completed, or so he said, when he began construction of another. It was as though he took the plans for me, and streamlined them into a new creation. Or tried to, at the very least; I knew I was better than the other, newer design.  
  
Ever since my father created my younger brother, I was what many would call an obselete design. I was the test; I was the prototype never meant to leave the lab. I thought I was supposed to be out fighting for the side of good, but it was never intended to be that way. My younger brother was going to be the hero, not me. When I found his designs, I had the shocking thought of getting rid of them. I could have destroyed the schematics that were used to create the blue-armored thing that haunts my thoughts even today. And yet, I could not bring myself to do it. Perhaps my flaw was too much caution, too much thought. I could not destroy the plans for something that could help mankind, even if I was to be abandoned in its favor.  
  
And so I left. When my father slept (or worked on other designs, I know not which it was), I picked up my shield; I have it to this day. It is the only thing that I have ever truly owned, with a maroon 'P' in the center. I should have known, the first time I saw it, that I had not been designed for greatness. Let it be said that even those such as myself have flights of fancy, wanting to rush off and fight dragons, rescue maidens. But I digress from the main issue.  
  
After taking hold of my shield, I made my way to the door of the lab. They were neither locked nor sealed; they simply opened as I stepped in front of them. I had never actually seen the corridor that led out to the real world, before. My entire life, with all the memories that went with it, existed in the ten meter by five meter room. It was something that I intended to correct. No one would make a conversation piece out of me; despite what others apparently took as my weakness, I would fight for what was true and right.  
  
As my mind wandered, I came to a startling discovery: what was right? Leaning against the sickly white wall, I slid to the floor. _What is right?_ My programming was incomplete. Another sign that I had never been intended for actual use. It compounded what I had previously thought, and helped me come to the realization that I truly had no use at all. Had I the capacity, I would have cried, but I lacked the appropriate facilities. And so, for three hours, seventeen minutes and four seconds, I sat in silence, my helmeted head between locked knees, before my father found me.  
  
"How did you get out of the lab?" His face seem concerned, though not with my well-being. I suppose he did not realize that there had never been anything stopping any of his creations from leaving, and I was about to mention it when I noticed someone hovering over his shoulder.  
  
This was the first I had seen of my new brother, standing beside my father where my place should have been. His blue armor seemed to glisten in the artificial light, and his eyes had more life in them than I had ever been programmed for. It was more than I could take; standing up, I ran down the corridor, away from both of them.  
  
It was childish, I suppose, running away from the only family I had, but my emotions overtook the logic chip that had been installed at my creation. Another mistake, I noted. A flawed construct. If I had ever bothered to test my own abilities, I do not doubt that I would have learned the faults that had been built into my design. But, even knowing my own frailties, I did not return to my father's side.  
  
For better, or for worse, I would find my own path. I, Protoman, would make a name for myself. And my brother would see who was the more powerful, who was the better. For all my faults, I knew from the beginning that I was stronger, faster than he. He would know it soon. 


	2. Sibling Rivalry, Chapter 2

There were a few safeguards that I had to get past in order to use my plasma cannon: it had never been activated. Fortunately, my father had never been able to make something purely for show, which meant that my weapon was fully functional. When I first turned it on, I could feel the surge of power from inside, and knew that things were looking up for me.  
  
I spent a few days working on my skill with my blaster. The built-in tracking system followed what I aimed at, which made things much easier than, by all rights, they should have been. That is not to say that everything I did was simple; far from it, as a matter of fact. I needed someplace where I could shy away from the elements. Rust comes surprisingly quickly, and if one can see it, the foul substance has no doubt spread further than one could ever suspect.  
  
I took up residence in an abandoned lab. There were a surprising number of the things, left to disrepair as more prominent scientists developed creations like my brother and I. For some reason, people were not eager to enter, much less steal from, the establishments. A myriad of robot parts and electronic gear lay scattered on tables, or hung from racks covered with dust.   
  
With a little elbow grease and time, the place looked brand new. The former owners must have been in the same line as my father; there was already a testing ground constructed for me to use. Consisting of a few targets and a childish obstacle course, I began to understand why they went ouf of business. All the robots I had seen could run the course without so much as recieving a scuffmark on their outer plating. And so, I began to branch out.  
  
It took a while, but there's a surprisingly good market for refurbished robot parts. Hesitant to be rid of something that could be used against me, I made sure only to sell to those few scientists who were struggling to make ends meet. They were thankful for the help and inexpensive parts; I was thankful for the money.   
  
Newspapers provide decent information, I must say. There was some madman on the loose, Dr. Wily; his robots were terrorizing the world. Or, I should say, they had been terrorizing the world at one point. Someone managed to stop them, at the same time making a name for himself with the world at large. Reading the front-page article, I could almost hear the words echoing in my head. "Megaman! Megaman!"  
  
Disgusted, I threw the paper on the pile of other articles about my goody-two-shoes brother. I intended to clip it out later and add it to a file I kept on my family. For now, I had to find parts and build a computer. This... Doctor Wily had managed to escape my brother, though it appeared no one besides myself really cared about that. I would find this Doctor, and I would bring him to the proper authorities. I would catch the man my brother could not.  
  
That meant tracking. Amusing as it was, using a compass and hard-copy map was not the best approach for it. I needed to find sightings of the man. I needed his history, his assets. I needed to know what made him tick. And I would prove to the world that I was the better.  
  
"I am going to show them all, Megaman. They will all see that I can do what you cannot. And they will love me, as they loved you. No, more! They will forget you even exist, because I will be everything mankind ever asked for. And you will be left behind, as I was." 


	3. Sibling Rivalry, Chapter 3

Tracking a madman is no easy task, even for one of my skill. Finding the parts to build scouting machines was one of the most difficult tasks; the constructs needed to be light, so that they could discover what I needed to know, but at the same time required a sturdy construction that could withstand a shot or two of plasma if they were discovered. Scrounging up the needed materials for such a thing was time-consuming, to say the least. Originally, I wanted ten probes to be my eyes and ears in the world; I was forced to settle for three.  
  
Nonetheless, they served their purpose well. With a decent computer finally constructed and powered up, I could download their discoveries to a main database. The first information they brought was promising: people were still fearful of another attack by this Doctor Wily, which meant that a capture would ease their minds considerably. Without a doubt, they would cheer for the captor. The second bit of information they brought was not as comforting, however. It seems that my incompetent brother managed to foil another attack of this mad professor's, only to allow the man to escape when victory was assured. I would not make the same mistake.  
  
According to my scouts, Wily was well into the construction of a third set of androids. While I had yet to find where he was building them, the discreet orders for parts in his name, enough to keep many laboratories funded for a decade, was a proverbial red flag. The suppliers were legitimate, to an extent. If he was as intelligent as the authorities believed, vendors not unlike myself would also be selling him various equipment. The combination was not a safe one; under that assumption, he could be constructing an army the likes of which the world has never seen before.  
  
I also managed to find a bit of information on my family. It seems that Doctor Light has Megaman ready to go; they're not far from where I am, information-wise. The logical conclusion was to let my brother work a bit, as well; I could accomplish two tasks at a single place and time. The horde of minor robots Doctor Wily appeared to be creating, however, seemed too weak to provide enough of a challenge.  
  
Wait. My mind sorted through half-formed ideas to form another. Why did I not just show my upstart brother who the more powerful was? I could easily defeat him. Checking the data scouted by my constructs, I quickly formulated an attack plan. Based on power readings, I suspected he would go after the android with a spinning ability before anyone else. However, I would not want him to think anything awry. The first few he could handle himself; it was the least I could do to allow his precious ego a few strokings before I showed him who the true boss was.  
  
He would see. They would all see. The abandoned prototype was truly the one they all wanted. 


End file.
